Stronger than the Night
by bluehazegrl
Summary: PostOOTP. Hermione and Harry are more alike than they think. Will they find the support they need to defeat Voldemort. Warnings: abuse. Eventual HHr.
1. Chapter 1

As of 6/25/08 I am rewriting this story!!  
I'm still going to keep my original author's notes (I think you lose something if you get rid of those when you do rewrites).  At the beginning of each chapter I rework, I will put the current date.  So if you are reading this and get to a chapter without a date, I have not reworked it yet.  --  
summary: Harry and Hermione share more than they know.  Troubles at home, a sympathetic Death Eater turned spy, and a quest to destroy good ol' Voldie all mix together for plot that will keep y'all entertained (I hope!). 

And so it begins again- a new story

Disclaimer: I will say this once, and only once. The characters that you recognize from the genius Harry Potter books do not belong to me. Any characters, locations, objects, etc that are familiar in that respect belong to the one and only J.K.R. Any similarities or resemblance of any characters or plot lines to any person or any thing in real life is merely coincidence and should not be taken to the tee.

Okay, now that that is out of the way I never want to have to mention it again- it gets tedious.

**Well I've not worked much with HP fanfics but hopefully this one will turn out nicely. It takes place directly after book 5 ends. Yes, Harry might seem a bit too cheery at the beginning being as his godfather just died and all but I really do have my reasons. I was getting a bit sick of fics that concentrated soley on his boohoo me thing. That will be part of this but it will not consume the story. Please r and r…. your time I greatly appreciated. Also I'm looking for a beta- if you can beta this story, please email me at **

**I would appreciate it**

**Other than that- enjoy: **

_The shifts of Fortune test the reliability of friends.  
Cicero _

_--_  
_Dear Harry,_

_Hello. I hope this is finding you well. I have just returned from a short holiday in France.  It was unbelievable.  The history there (both wizard and muggle) was fascinating.  I could have stayed there for ages.  Did you know the Bibliothèque nationale de France was the first free public library in the world?  I must admit I found this amusing because now you have to pay a fee to access the materials.  We also got to visit the Eiffel tower.  I will never willingly go that high again!! _

_I know you are probably sick of us asking this, but I must. Are you doing okay? I realize this is a difficult time for you now, but just remember your friends are here for you._

_I have some news.  I know this may sound a bit odd, but in a few weeks  my family is moving into a house on Privet Drive. My mother has a sister who lives in a house about ten minutes from Privet Drive. My mother felt that with her sister's recent illness, we would do better to move closer to her. So that will put us on your street soon. Would you care to do anything on Friday the thirtieth? I would really like to see you. Send me an owl back._

_Love,  
Hermione_

Harry finished reading the letter and could not help but smile. He was anxious to see his friends again. After a moment, his smile faded. He could not help but worry that Hermione would try and make him talk about Sirius. Harry wasn't sure if he was ready for this. He shrugged off these unpleasant feelings though and cheered himself with the thought that he was going to be able to see Hermione soon. And it would be the day before his birthday too. It was hard not to feel excited.

A tap on his window drew him out of his thoughts and Harry went to let the owl in. He opened the window and found not one, but two owls carrying a long thin package. Harry's heart surged. It was a broomstick; he'd recognize that shape anywhere. Frantically he ripped open the brown paper covering the broom. A pang of sadness swept over him as he realized it was a Firebolt- his Firebolt- the Firebolt Sirius had bought him. Harry shoved the package away not wanting to deal with emotion-laden memories. No matter how hard he'd tried over the past couple of weeks, Harry was finding it near impossible to keep his mind off of Sirius. When he thought of Sirius, he was hit with a feeling of guilt that would not go away. It was like a constant stomachache. He knew what his friends would say if they found out. They would tell him that it wasn't his fault and that he should not feel this way, but they would not find out, Harry was going to make sure of that.

He stared moodily at the carpeted floor of his small bedroom. How many times had he gone over that scene in his head? Bellatrix standing there triumphantly, the feelings hitting Harry as Lupin pulled him away from the veil- Sirius was really gone. Harry could not begin to count the number of nightmares he had had, replaying the entire event in his head. He could not help asking himself over and over why had he not seen through the trap of Voldemort? Harry knew it was his fault and was prepared to accept that. He just wished acceptance had lessened the feelings of guilt.

A nip on the hand from one of the delivery owls brought him back to the present. It had a note tied to its leg. Harry quickly undid the ties and absentmindedly patted the owl on the head. He unfolded the note and read:

_Dear Harry,_

_We have officially reinstated you on the Quidditch team. The lifetime ban on flying has been lifted and you are now free to play as seeker. Happy holidays._

_Sincerely,  
Professor Dumbledore _  
_And__  
Professor McGonnagal_

Harry's heart surged. He would be able to fly soon! 'I must write Hermione,' he thought to himself. 'She will be thrilled to know that evil Umbridge lady didn't win.' Smiling to himself and pushing Sirius to the back of his mind, Harry drew out a sheet of parchment and his quill.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Thank you for the letter. I am doing fine. The school sent me a letter delivering me my Firebolt back and telling me that the ban has been lifted. I can be on the team next year! I am very excited. I am also very much looking forward to seeing you on the thirtieth of July. It will be nice to see a friendly face again. These Dursley's aren't much to look at. Give my regards to your family. Can't wait to see you._

_Love,  
Harry_

Harry called over to Hedwig and tied the letter securely to her leg. "Thanks girl," he said, stroking her feathers.

With a soft hoot, Hedwig took to the air, followed by the two delivery owls. Harry watched his faithful owl disappear into the night sky and walked back over to his bed. Sitting down upon it he reflected on what news, he had just received. It felt great to be able to have his broom with him again. But would it feel right riding on the broom Sirius had given him? Not even Malfoy had a Firebolt- just a Nimbus 2001. That was certainly incentive to fly it, especially during games, but Sirius had given it to him. It was hard even to look at it, never mind probably impossible to fly it without being plagued by memories of Sirius. Pushing these thoughts away he tried to focus on the happiness he had felt earlier at finding out that Hermione was coming to Pivet Drive. Harry began smiling again.

Getting up he crossed his room and looked at himself in the mirror. He was a bit nervous after not seeing Hermione for so long. Would she have changed? Had he changed? He glanced at his reflection and smiled at what he saw. He had grown taller, developed more muscle and his voice had gradually deepened.  muscles were becoming more pronounced due to his workouts each morning.

Harry glanced over at his clock. It read three o'clock. He had not been able to sleep although he was quite drowsy. Suddenly a thought hit him- how foolish he had been to reply to Hermione's letter at this hour of the morning. She was sure to think there was something wrong when she received it. Harry had gone to bed early but had been awoken around midnight by an unpleasant dream about Sirius, and now Hermione was probably going to think that he was not doing well. _Oh well_, he thought, _it's__ not like I can do anything about it now._

With a bit of uneasiness he climbed back into his bed and tried to go to sleep.

**a/n**** as of 25 June 2008**

**well****, this chapter didn't change too much.  I am restructuring the summer, so where Hermione was on Privet Dr right away in my old story, it's going to be awhile before she comes now.  **

**by**** the way, I wasn't lying about the library.  It's amazing.  It's massive.  It was truly the first free public library in the whole world**

**and**** they truly do charge you to get in now. something like 3 and half Euros, the price may be higher now.  **

**I find that really funny**

**There's**** also this garden that sits low with the buildings of the library surrounding it in a circle; and no public access is allowed to the garden.  It's ridiculous.  So if you want to go to the far building, instead of being able to shave 15 minutes off your trip (not an exaggeration- that place is huge) you have to walk all the way around the garden, which takes like 20 minutes**

**Hope you guys enjoy the rewrite.  **

**Please review. **

**Pretty please****.**

**Like even if it's just a "nice" or "this sucked"**

**I'll**** even take an ad hominem, 'cause then at least I know you're reading the story: ie, "you suck" or "you're stupid"**

**--**

**Original a/n: okay so first chapters up **

**I'm**** not really sure if I want to make this a Harry/Hermione fic or a Draco/Hermione fid**

**It will not, and I repeat, it will nOt be a Ron/Hermione fic**

**I will soon get a move on with the story**

**Other than that**

**If u can beta for me, please email me**

**If you have opinions or ideas about the direction the story should go, please leave them in your reviews……. Or if u have opinions on who hermione should end up with**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello my pretties- here I am writing another chapter- I'm still not sure which direction I want to take the story- I guess that's good- leaves u in more suspense…. Hehe**

* * *

_A good friend sees the first tear, catches the second and stops the third._

_-unknown-_

* * *

_Harry, _

_Please, this is important. Can you meet me in the park by your house in twenty minutes (at 3:20 a.m.)? I need to talk to you. Send me an owl back._

_Love, _

_Hermione_

Harry re-read the letter to make sure he had seen correctly. It was three o'clock in the morning, yet Hermione had just sent it to him.

_'That's odd,'_ he thought. _'Hermione said she'd be here in a week. It's only the 27th though. I wonder why she's come home early.'_ He quickly scribbled a note back to her and tied it to the leg of the waiting owl.

He hastily changed into sweat pants and a t-shirt and left the house quietly.

Reaching the deserted park, Harry checked his watch and saw it was only 3:14. he sat down under a nearby tree to wait for Hermione. As he sat, he wondered what she could need to talk about so desperately.

Harry stood up quickly at the sound of footsteps nearby. He squinted into the darkness and could make out the small siloute of a young woman, around his age, with familiar looking hair.

"Hermione?" he called.

The figure stopped short. Harry could now tell that the person, whoever they were, was shaking. Cautiously he approached her.

"Hermione, is that you?" he asked.

The girl nodded and brushed aside a strand of hair, revealing a tear-stained and darkened face. Harry became alarmed and moved closer to her.

"Are you okay?" he questioned her.

"Um- yea, just a little on edge," she said lightly.

Harry was now by her side and saw that the darkness of her face was not only due to the shadows of the night, but also a large, spreading bruise around her left eye and a smaller bruise on her jaw.

"Hermione," he whispered. "What happened?"

Hermione looked up into his emerald green eyes and sighed. She breathed in and out a few times and tried again but still could not bring herself to talk to Harry.

"Do you want to sit?" he asked her tentatively.

Hermione nodded and Harry led her to a nearby bench. Hermione collapsed onto the bench and closed her eyes. Harry looked her over and saw that it was not only her face that was bruised. The portion of her back and neck that was visible from the cut of her tank top and her arms were darker than they should have been as well.

"Hermione, who did this to you?" he asked.

She again looked up at him with huge brown eyes wide with fear. "I can't tell you," she told him slowly, as if each word pained her. "They're following me. I know it."

"Who?"

But Hermione had expended all she could in her last few words and leaned back in exhaustion, slipping into unconsciousness. Harry looked around to make sure no one had witnessed their exchange.

Gently he picked Hermione up and headed back to the Dursley's house. It was three forty when he reached the house so no one was awake yet. Quietly he opened the door and let himself in, still carrying Hermione. He made his way up to his bedroom and softly placed Hermione on his bed. Harry crossed the room and retrieved a chair taking it and placing it next to his bed. Leaning back he readied himself for a long night.

**

* * *

Hehe- suspense…. Who did that to Hermione? Well you'll eventually find out- wOOt**

**I still need a beta- puh-lease….. -D review**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello my pretties- sorry that the last installment was so short- hope this makes up for it a bit. 9 pages at 12 pt. Font in word. Be happy.**

**edit. I wrote some chapters after this and was going to put them up on but then I read through my story from the start and did not like how the story developed. It took too long to get to some things and some places were too bloated. So I rearranged chapter 3 majorly. I also put some small revisions in chapters 1 and 2. nothing that is vital to the plot, but it helps it flow better. Even if you read the old chapter 3, if you want to know what's going on in the story you need to read the new chapter 3. it is drastically different. Please r and r. peace.**

* * *

_I will never abandon you. My strength will be your strength in your time of need. _

_-unknown-_

* * *

Hermione stirred in her sleep, moaning. Harry glanced over at her and was surprised by the tears that were running down her face. He moved from his chair and sat on the edge of the bed. Harry took Hermione's head in his hands and began to stroke her hair uttering soothing sounds. Hermione's stirring ceased but the tears continued to flow. 

Suddenly Hermione stopped stirring. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked about her, eyes wide in fear. Looking up she saw Harry.

Eyes filled with tears she sniffed and looked away. "Promise me that you ever leave me!" she breathed urgently.

"I promise," he whispered.

* * *

Around six in the morning Harry went downstairs to begin breakfast for his aunt and uncle. He had thought about contacting someone from the Order but he decided he would wait for Hermione to come around and talk to him about her condition before hand. He wasn't really sure how to contact anyone either. Hedwig had not returned yet. Harry assumed she was off hunting, but he was unsure if she had delivered the letter to wherever Hermione was staying. After getting breakfast started, Harry gathered up some food and made up a tray of food to take to his room. He knew he would catch hell for it later, all the food missing, he was on punishment to begin with, which meant no food for awhile, but he didn't care. He wanted to bring food up to Hermione and if he got in trouble later for the missing food, well then that was just one more thing he could use to fuel his anger towards the Dursley's.

* * *

"Hermione," Harry cooed gently as he opened his door. 

There was no answer.

"Hermione," Harry called a little louder.

Still there was no answer.

Harry opened the door all the way and entered his room carrying the breakfast tray. His bed was empty and Hermione was nowhere to be found. Panicking Harry tried to force his thudding heart to calm in order for him to think.

_'She probably went to the bathroom or something,'_ he thought to himself. He set down the tray on his bedside table and went down the hall to the upstairs bathroom.

"Hermione," he called.

There was no answer and he cautiously pushed open the door. Gasping, he quickly moved forward and knelt on the ground. Hermione was sprawled across the floor, blood dripping from her open mouth.

"Hermione," Harry called desperately. "Please wake up!"

Hermione stirred but did not wake. Her moaning grew louder but she did not open her eyes.

Harry scooped Hermione up in his arms and made his way back to his bedroom. Gently he placed Hermione back on his bed. He rushed to the bathroom and retrieved a damp washcloth.

Back in his room, Harry sponged the washcloth across Hermione's forehead.

"Hermione," Harry said. "Please, please, wake up."

Hermione's eyes fluttered open. She tried to speak, but her mouth was too dry; her words only emerged as a croak.

Harry gently eased her into a sitting position and raised a glass of water to her lips. She drank ravenously, but it exhausted her supply of energy, and she collapsed back against the pillows.

Eyes closed, Hermione finally spoke.

"Harry," she whispered. "I'm sorry for coming like this. I need to contact Dumbledore."

It was all the energy Hermione had. She dropped into a cold faint.

Harry was horrified. He was so worried about Hermione. Quickly he grabbed a quill and parchment and wrote a hurried note to Dumbledore explaining what had happened. He would wait for Hedwig and sent it to Dumbledore the moment she returned. In the meantime he meant to look after Hermione's injuries. He paused just a moment at the top of the stairs to listen for his relatives before rushing downstairs and to grab a few ice packs from the freezer.

Letting himself back into his room, Harry was thankful to see Hermione had come around again.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed. "Thank heavens you are up. I have written a note for Dumbledore and will send it with Hedwig the moment she returns."

Hermione smiled, but stopped, wincing as it had split her bruised lip. She put a hand up to stop the bleeding but it was to no avail. Harry handed her a tissue, which she accepted gratefully.

"Thanks," she murmured.

"You're welcome," Harry replied. After a moment he frowned. "Hermione, I wish you'd tell me what happened."

"They found me," Hermione said quietly, shadows playing about in her eyes.

"Who?" Harry asked softly.

"The Death Eaters," Hermione said. "But they did not want to kill me. Other things, yes, but not kill me."

"What do you mean other things?" Harry inquired.

Hermione looked down, face looking especially dark in the dim light because of the bruising. Her answer was no more than a whisper, "Other things."

"Hermione," Harry pleaded. "Please tell me."

Hermione leaned forward to reposition herself in the bed and winced. Seeing this drove the question of what "other things" might be out of Harry's thoughts. He was concerned about Hermione's condition.

"Here," he said, handing her an ice pack. "I got these from our freezer. I don't know how much they'll help, but it's better than nothing."

Hermoine took one in her left hand and put it to her side. "Thanks."

"Does it hurt to talk much?" Harry asked concernedly.

"Yes," Hermione replied in a low voice. "But the pain will wear off soon. It always does."

"Hermione, what do you mean?"

"Nothing. Nothing that I can't handle by myself."

"May I?" Harry asked politely. He had his hand positioned next to her shirt hem. He wanted to see the extent of her injuries, as long as she was comfortable with it.

Resignedly, Hermione nodded.

Harry gently eased her shirt hem up towards her chest, careful around her middle. He winced openly as he saw the dark bruising around a particularly bloody area of her side. "Looks like you might have broken a rib," he said bleakly, trying to hide the concern in his voice. He knew Hermione didn't want to be babied.

"I believe I have," she said in her most logical voice, sounding like the know-it-all he was accustomed to. "It felt the same way last time."

"Hermione, has this happened before? Not the death-eaters. I know that, but just you being in pain. Has that happened before?"

Hermione sighed, regretting almost instantly any hints she had given to Harry. Every time she got close to telling someone she always stopped herself. But this was Harry. He deserved to know. Didn't he? But it was so much easier to keep it hidden from him.

Harry clenched his fists in frustration at Hermione's reluctance to talk. He was worried about her and he would be damned if she started shutting him out now. "Hermione, please look at me."

She had been ready to refuse, resolved to not let him in on her struggle, but her heart had softened at the pleading tone in his voice. Slowly she drew her gaze up, warm brown eyes making contact with his vibrant green orbs.

"Now, please answer me," he said slowly. "Has this happened before? Was it anyone in your family?"

Hermione looked down. She could feel tears forming in her eyes. "Yes."

Harry felt a surge of anger run through him. He knew exactly how she felt. Eager to tell others of his plight, desperately wanting support, comfort and protection, but at the same time, afraid to let others in on the secret, knowing that they would see him as weak or as unable to handle his own affairs.

"Hermione, you can trust me. I won't hurt you, and I won't let them touch you again," Harry said with conviction.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"Here, eat," Harry said, bringing the tray closer to Hermione. "Can you tell me what happened now?"

Hermione nodded. For once it felt okay to let down her barrier of protection. Harry did deserve the truth. It seemed to her that he knew more than he let on. "Well, you remember that letter I sent you, telling you that my aunt was ill and we were moving?"

Harry nodded numbly, still trying to rein his temper at the injustices that had befallen his best friend.

"Well that much was true, but a lot more than an ill aunt has been going on this summer. At the beginning of the summer my father died. Heart attack while we were on holiday in America. My mother was consumed with despair. She and he had been inseparable as lovers, and with him dead she couldn't manage to live her life again. She succumbed to the sadness and began to act funny. At first I chalked it up to her being depressed, but as time wore on I began to see that it was more desperate than that. She became more and more dependent on her depression medication. One night, I went into her room and found her talking to herself. But she really believed she was my father. It was so scary finding my mother carrying on a conversation with herself. It was as if she had two minds and one mouth. I called her sister-" Hermione had broken off her story abruptly.

Harry looked over and saw Hermione gulp once and then take a few steadying breaths. She seemed pretty unfazed so far, but Harry knew how upset she had to have been at her father's death and the mental loss of her mother. Then he saw her lip quiver and was comforted by the fact that she still had her emotions. He knew he could help her through as long as she was still willing to feel. Gently he placed a warm hand on her back and began to lightly rub in a circular motion, careful not to disturb her injuries. "Here," he said huskily, holding a glass of water to her lips. "Drink."

Gratefully she gulped down the water, relishing in the break it gave her to regroup her thoughts. She knew she had to continue. Someone had to know the full story. That way, if they came back with accusations again, she'd have at least one person on her side. Sinking back into her pillows, Hermione took a deep breath and continued her story. "Her sister was the only living relative my mother had. So naturally I called her. She and her husband came to our house to help me with my mother. I think it was too late. Something like that. I'm not sure. The following day some people in crisp uniforms came and put my mother in a straight jacket, loaded her in a truck, and took her away to some mental hospital in southern England. That afternoon her sister began walking around the house, putting tags on the things in the house she wanted to keep as 'hers.' It was disgusting. I told them so, her and my uncle. I told them that my father would never have stood for it. I had begged them not to institutionalize my mother, but they didn't listen. They were irritated by that, but when I mentioned my father, shit hit the fan." Again Hermione paused in her story.

Harry was astonished. He could not remember a single instance in his entire relationship with Hermione where he had heard her curse. Something had changed about her. She was less shy, more rebellious. She had a glint in her eyes that warned away any ill wishers. It was as if she did not care anymore how the outside world perceived her. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm really sorry," was all Harry could think to say.

Hermione nodded for a moment before continuing. "My aunt went out one morning to the grocer. I was up in my room where I had locked myself ever since they had come to the house. About an hour after my aunt had left I heard a knock on my door. Without waiting for an answer my uncle poked his head in and asked if I knew where any boxes were that would be large enough to pack my father's golf clubs in so that shipping them to the country club he belonged to might be easier. I lost my temper. I yelled at him that they were my father's golf clubs and he could keep his grimy hands off them. Then I told him to go find his own damn box. I don't quite remember what I said next, but what he did next I'll remember forever. He crossed the room in two strides and grabbed a fistful of my shirt, lifting me clear of the ground. He said three words: _Shut up, bitch_, before slamming me against the wall. I don't really remember much past that. I think I passed out. I remember waking up later and looking out the window to see that it was dark. I listened for a moment, registering the humming of my aunt in the kitchen below me and the noises of my uncle in the kitchen. I didn't come out of my room for a week, I had a private bath attached to my bedroom so I could stay clear of him for a week, he had yet to be able to break down my door."

She paused yet again. This time only for a moment though. It seemed the more she talked, the easier it was to speak. Harry doubted she had had the chance to speak with anyone about her experience this summer and he knew from his own experiences that it did wonder to confide in someone, be it a person or an animal.

"I had to come out then. I was hungry. I had managed to hold out for one week but I just couldn't do it any longer. From the first day after the episode I kept having fainting spells. I think I had a concussion, but they grew more prevalent as I became weaker due to lack of food. The dizziness was unbearable and in the end my stomach won out. I left the room. It seems that this was too much for my uncle to bear. This time he didn't even make sure my aunt wasn't in the room. I had just finished a sandwich when I heard him behind me. I wasn't quick enough and he was able to backhand me before I could react. I fell across the metal dining chair next to me and heard something in my side crack. The worst though was when my head hit the floor. I don't think I was completely healed from the week before and when I hit the floor everything went fuzzy. I felt something that was shaped like a pill being shoved between my lips. I guess that was kind of a blessing in disguise. It knocked me out. I woke up in the hospital. My aunt and uncle sitting by my bedside, the picture of concerned relatives."

Harry stared at Hermione in stunned silence. He wanted so bad to reach out and comfort her, embrace her and protect her from the outside world, intent that no harm would ever befall her again. Instead, he reached over and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, showing his support rather than verbalizing it and interrupting her story.

"The doctor came in and I asked him what was going on. I wanted to tell him about my uncle, but I saw my uncle's fist clench when I looked at him and knew better. The doctor told me that he had found traces of a date rape drug in my blood and that my aunt and uncle had brought me in after finding me dumped on their porch that afternoon. He asked me if I could remember anything about the guy that had drugged me and hurt me. I lied and said that I thought he was blond but I was very hazy on details. The doctor told me it was to be expected. I had a severe concussion and several broken ribs. I also had a sprained wrist."

Harry cut her off, anger rising to the surface. "Hermione, they could have killed you."

"I know," she whispered, brushing away a stray tear.

"Did your uncle do anything else that day?" Harry asked, afraid of the answer.

Hermione shook her head slowly. "No. The doctor said that although I had been doped with a date rape drug it didn't appear to their tests that I had been touched."

"Why did he hate you so? Why did your aunt allow it?" Harry heard himself asking before he could stop himself. He knew what silly questions they were. Why did his own 'family' hate him so much? Why did his aunt, a blood relative, allow Uncle Vernon to treat him so barbarously?

"She blamed me for my mother's mental state. She said that if I had been a better daughter my father would not have suffered a heart attack because he would not have been stressed and my mother would still be sane. She got my uncle to take the same opinion and my uncle and father had been very close. He saw me as the sole reason his best friend was gone. I don't blame them. They can't help the way that they were raised."

"Hermione! They would have killed you and thought nothing about it, yet you sit here defending them." Harry's outburst did not startle Hermione. She felt like she was in a trance of sorts.

"Harry, you can't blame someone like that. They were grieving, they were not raised with kindness and love," Hermione said emotionally.

"Yes you can, Hermione!" Harry said harshly. "I would never hurt you, but look at how I've been raised." It was out before he even thought about it. He hadn't meant to say anything, but there it was, it was out, and he could not get it back.

"Harry?" Hermione prodded gently. "Please, tell me. I know that you haven't had it easy, but please, tell me what they've done to you."

"No," Harry said gruffly. "I don't want to think about it. Just until I'm old enough to leave, then I don't have to put up with it anymore. I don't want to dwell on the past. I'll tell you someday, okay?" he asked sweetly.

"Okay," Hermione responded quietly, awed that Harry knew what she had experienced. The worthless feelings, the pain, both physical and emotional. They were both orphans now, and she would be damned if any more pain befell either of them. They had to stick together.

Harry gently drew her hand into his and carefully laced his fingers through hers. "Hermione, I'll take care of you. I promise that. I told you I wouldn't harm you, and I will stick to that."

Hermione nodded, grateful for Harry, grateful for everything he was doing for her. For a moment she closed her eyes, resting a bit, for she was tired. Harry noticed this immediately and bade her lean back and rest, they could continue talking later. He promised to send the letter to Dumbledore as soon as Hedwig returned.

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**Mmmmk. That was chapter 3. you will find out more about harry's deal and hermione's deal. They will rebuild together. Obviously. Please review. I want feedback. I know that parts of hermione's dialogue were kind of long, but I needed to set up the story. Peace.**


	4. Chapter 4

Geeze, this chapter has been a long time in coming. For quite awhile, I contemplated deleting this story. I have changed my mind. Eventually I will go back in and edit the first three chapters, for they have mistakes and awkward sentences.

I'm not sure how long this story will be and if it will be purely emotional or if there will be a journey leading to the actual demise of Voldemort. I do enjoy writing original fiction and like to spend most of my time working on that. Character development and emotional maturing happens in my fanfics.

So, again, I'm not really sure where I'm taking this yet. Bear with me, please. Thanks for reading and reviewing.

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Never explain- your Friends do not need it and your Enemies will not believe you anyway.

-Elbert Hubbard-

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Harry heard a loud click on his windowsill followed by a soft hoot. Looking over from where he'd kept vigil over Hermione, he saw that Hedwig had finally returned.

"Come here, girl," he whispered, not wanting to disturb the young witch's sleep.

Hedwig flew to Harry and held out her leg. She made no noise and was more solemn than Harry had ever seen her. The owl's gaze lingered on Harry's patient before Hedwig turned and pecked Harry gently on the finger.

"Take this to Dumbledore, Hedwig," he said in a quiet voice. "It's urgent."

With one last look at her master and then the still form on the bed, Hedwig took off.

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It was hours before Hermione woke. Harry, tired and worried, had fallen into a light sleep in an old chair by his bed. At the sound of the sheets rustling, Harry's eyes snapped open.

"Harry," Hermione said. "You should have gotten some proper sleep." Even exhausted herself, the young witch still managed to chastise Harry like a mother would.

Despite himself and their unfortunate situation, Harry grinned at her. "Yes, mother," he said, ducking his head.

Looking fresher and more determined, Hermione smiled and eased herself up. With the help of Harry, she found a comfortable position with pillows supporting her back.

She took his hand when they were both settled. Harry noticed a new spark in her eye. "I want to tell you the rest of the story, Harry. You deserve to know."

Harry nodded dumbly and waited for her to begin. It seemed a lengthy sleep had restored more than just health to Hermione. Her spirit had taken on a new stubbornness. Harry hoped that meant she also trusted him completely, that she would spill the entire story to him.

"After my aunt and uncle took me home from the hospital, I spent most of my time in my room. The first day that both of my relatives were out of the house at the same time, I went downstairs, took the manual can opener we had for power outages, gathered a number of cans of food, and some boxes of crackers and cereal. I never wanted to have to come out of my room again." Hermione took a stabilizing breath and trudged on. "There was a panel in the back of my closet that blended in with the wall. My relatives knew naught of it and I was able to store all my food back there. I also took some plastic silverware and a disposable bowl, knowing my relatives never lowered themselves enough to eat off anything but my mother's fine china. They never noticed, or if they did, they didn't care enough to bother me about it."

Harry smiled sadly, knowing what it was like to have to scrape around for food because those in charge of your care couldn't be bothered themselves.

Hermione took a sip of the warm water from her cup that was still on the nightstand. "It was easy, really," she told Harry with sincerity. "I had a sink so I could clean up after myself and I'd wash the cans out after I ate from them so that they didn't smell. Five days after I had taken the food, I heard a knock on my door. I didn't know what to do. They knew I was in my room. There was no running. I answered the door. It was my uncle. There was something different about him though. When I got closer to open the door all the way, for I didn't want to anger him more, I knew what it was. He reeked of alcohol. He also hadn't shaved in days. I learned sometime during that beating that he'd lost his job."

A tear slipped down Hermione's cheek. She angrily pushed it away and gave a defiant sniff. "I couldn't take it anymore. I left. That was my first mistake. Dumbledore had put up a sort of protective ward around my house. When I left, I became vulnerable. But what was I to do? Stay and die at the hands of my own family or leave and risk dying at the hands of a Death Eater?"

Harry shuddered. It was like looking at a mirror. He could understand and appreciate what Hermione had to say, even if he felt awful that she had endured all of it. He nodded to her sharing his understanding.

She continued. "It was a day after I'd left that I noticed the first Death Eater following me. I knew I had to get to safety, soon. I'd no where to sleep and no muggle money on me so I went to the library."

Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not. It was absurd, yet genius.

"Every night, an hour before they closed, I would go to the library and read. Twenty minutes before they locked up for the night I would go into the restroom and stand on the back of a toilet in there. The staff never did a thorough check of the building. Normally, one woman would just poke her head into the restroom and call a warning that they were closing. She'd leave and I'd wait for thirty more minutes. I slept in the children's section where they have the couches for the parents. In the morning, I'd wake in time to hide in the restroom until the library opened. After almost a week of this I was discovered. A librarian had forgotten her purse, but not realized it till she was almost home. I was all settled into the children's section when she came in. I acted grateful that someone was in the library and told the woman how hysterical I had been, being locked in after closing. I lied and told her that I was using the restroom and when I came out all the doors were locked. She smiled and asked if I needed a ride home. I declined and took off on foot. I'd found some change lying next to the sink at the library, so I was able to buy some food at a 24 diner about a block from the library. When I left, I wasn't paying much attention. I was tired and did not know where I could sleep that night. It was then that I was grabbed by the Death Eaters."

Harry was awed that Hermione had made it this far. He hugged her, taking care not to bump where she was sore.

"I found my way to the park. I was taken by the Death Eaters a few days ago. They didn't want to apparate anywhere for fear of alerting the ministry of magic in a muggle area- and they were stupid. It wasn't on Voldemort's orders or anything- they just wanted a fun plaything. But when they figured out I was Hermione Granger, they decided they would take me to their master. The night they decided this, they got drunk to celebrate. While they were passed out, I gave them the slip. I'm sure they've tracked me, but I know we're safe inside the wards around your house."

Famous Harry Potter stared at Hermione. "How did you know of the wards?" he asked, too surprised to address any other part of her tale.

Hermione looked nervous. "I know you don't like people talking about you or being overprotective, but Dumbledore told Ron and me before summer break this past term. He wanted us to know why he would not let you go with one of us straight off, especially given the, um, happenings at the Ministry of Magic."

Harry's mouth formed a soft "oh." He was surprisingly not upset about her reference to Sirius. The more pressing matter of Hermione's difficulties and injuries made his line of focus clear and his emotions did not become mixed with sadness.

With the adrenaline of recounting her tale wearing off, Hermione's eyes began to flutter. Harry carefully eased her back, making sure her blankets were secured around her without putting too much pressure on her ribs and bruises.

"Thanks, Harry," she said quietly. Hermione let out a sigh and allowed her eyes to close completely.

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_Harry,_

_Thank you for caring for Ms. Granger. For reasons I know you will understand, mainly the blood wards, you will have to stay at the Dursley residence for a bit longer; however, I have arranged for a group of Order members to retrieve Ms. Granger from Number 4 Privet Drive at eight o'clock tomorrow morning. They will expect her to be ready. I understand that Ms. Granger has been injured. I have enclosed in this package various healing potions. Please administer according to label of each. An Order member with the necessary medical knowledge to treat Ms. Granger will also be with the group arriving in the morning. Stay put for now. I cannot tell you where the Order members are bringing Ms. Granger, in case this owl is intercepted. I will have you know, though, that after I discuss recent, tragic events she has endured, she will be lodged at the school. You will be able to join her at a later time. _

_Sincerely, _

_Professor Dumbledore_

Harry folded the note and gently placed it on his desk. He opened the box the school owl had delivered and found the healing potions of which the headmaster had spoken. He sat on the edge of his bed and read the instructions on each bottle.

The first jar was a basic bruise-healing paste, which Harry knew would ease Hermione's soreness greatly. Feeling bad for interrupting her sleep, he woke her.

"Hermione, Dumbledore sent us a letter. You are being retrieved by Order members in the morning at eight. He also sent some potions and salves for you to use."

The young witch nodded her understanding.

"This one is a bruise-healing paste. I understand if you don't want me touching you, but in your current condition, I think it will be the least painful for you if I apply it." Harry met Hermione's gaze.

"I trust you, Harry," she told him, her eyes revealing her deep-rooted confidence in the green-eyed wizard. "Go ahead."

Hermione hissed as Harry pulled Hermione's shirt up to just below her brassiere. With fingers that shook from exhaustion and worry, Harry gently smoothed the paste across the worst of Hermione's mottled skin. The brown-haired young woman bit her lip, eyes watering. Harry watched as the swelling greatly decreased and Hermione's breathing became steadier.

"Sorry," he murmured, apologizing for the pain he knew his application had caused her.

"Don't be silly," she ordered. "I would be rather crazy if I held a bit of discomfort against you when I now feel so much better." A true smile lit Hermione's face, giving Harry the resolve to finish his ministrations.

Harry opened a small jar of Star Grass salve. "This is going to twinge a bit," he warned. He gently worked it into her shoulder, where swelling and lacerations seemed the worst. "How is your back?" he asked.

"It's actually fine," she told him. "It wasn't touched once."

Harry smiled for small blessings. "This is a bottle of Dreamless Sleep," he informed her, holding up a small vial. "Take it and I will apply the essence of murtlap to your. I'm then going to go downstairs and make lunch for my cousin and aunt. If you wake, don't move or try to go anywhere. I will be back up shortly."

Hermione grinned, feeling calmer now that she wasn't feeling as much pain. "Aye, aye," she mocked playfully, before taking the vial and downing it in one gulp.

Harry had been watching her struggle to stay awake, as he'd applied the salve to her injuries. Now he leaned over her and made sure her unconscious form was in a comfortable position. He stretched her out and took the jars Dumbldore had sent to his desk. The murtlap essence had to be mixed with a basic healing salve the headmaster had sent so that he could apply it to the cuts he'd found on her knees and arm. He was now glad that he'd been so thorough in his initial diagnosis and letter to Dumbledore. Paste made, he gently covered Hermione's knees and shoulder with the yellow goo and pulled the covers over Hermione's body.

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Hm, well I know not many will probably read this. Any who first began this story and wished for me to continue, have probably now given up all hope. I have already begun work on the next chapter. I do hope this warrants a few reviews at least. I know where I am taking this and I know what I'm doing with it. Hope this chapter was good. I promise it's not going to be this monologue intensive the entire time. Hermione needed to tell her story. The was the way she wanted to tell it. :D Hope it wasn't too tedious.


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